


Feelings

by cinnamon_vanilla



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Feelings Realization, Jealousy, Oblivious My Unit | Byleth, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28454856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamon_vanilla/pseuds/cinnamon_vanilla
Summary: Three times Byleth felt jealous but didn't understand it.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 1
Kudos: 58





	Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally not going to post this as I became intimidated by the sheer amount of good writing the ship has. It had been a long while since I wrote a fic and I had never written for this pairing before. Hopefully, it was okay because I can feel my writing quality dropping (oh no). This idea came to me as I realised that there were more insecured Dimitri fics than insecured Byleth fics. Happy New Year and have a safe and happy year ahead!

The winter sunlight is watery and cold, igniting the training area in a soft feeble golden. Byleth squinted against the sun, watching as the Blue Lions speared with each other. She crossed her arms, a pathetic attempt to ward off the cold. She had hardly traveled to the North back in her mercenary days with Jeralt and had a nagging suspicion that the blonde man was not fond of cold himself.

“Professor, are you alright?” Ever cordial, Dimitri asked.

Byleth nodded, “it is a little colder than I thought.”

“It gets even colder in the North, Professor,” Annette chirped as she effortlessly dodged an incoming spell from Mercedes. Byleth inwardly shivered at the thought of something colder.

Dimitri smiled and Byleth absentmindedly thought it was a beautiful smile. His smile was more than just the raise to the corner of his lips, it was in his tone of voice and in the way he relaxed his posture. “The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus lies in the North and it is cold throughout the year. The people are all used to the weather,” Dimitri explained.

“There must be why all of you seem to be quicker on your feet compared to the summer,” Byleth noted out loud. “Okay, I want you all to change partners.” After a quick and careful deliberation, Byleth paired Dimitri and Mercedes, Annette and Felix, Slyvain and Dedue, and Ashe and Ingrid together.

She went around the training area, correcting the students in their mistakes and drilling into them the skills needed to prepare them well for the mission at the end of the month - to investigate and defeat the Demonic Beasts inside the chapel. Perhaps it was because it was near the ball but everyone seemed fairly excited and motivated - save for Felix who was grumpier than usual as he had just won the White Heron Cup. Byleth ignored it. As she neared Dimitri and Mercedes, she spared a quick glance at the blonde.

Her thought instantly wandered to when the gatekeeper talked to her about a man and woman going to the goddess tower to make a wish. At that moment, no one came to her mind except for her star pupil. She briefly wondered what Seteth would say. Perhaps a scolding is long overdue for her and her scandalous thought. A wry smile crossed her face as quickly as it faded because the next second an iron lance flew in her direction. Quick as lightning, Byleth stepped aside gracefully. However, deep in her own thoughts, she had forgotten to account for the positions of her students. Behind her, it was Mercedes. A gasp was heard before a loud snapping sound followed. Byleth swung around quickly, ignoring the way Sothis screamed in her head.

_You foolish girl!_

Relief flooded Byleth’s veins as she saw that Dimitri had caught the lance and actually properly broke it into half neatly. Mercedes was on the ground, her face paled.

“I apologise!” Annette spoke across the area, flustered. Her feet were already carrying her across the room. “It just-I just aimed the wrong way. Mercie, are you okay?”

Byleth extended her arm out, ready to pull her student up and apologise when Dimitri beat her to it.

“Can you stand?” The concern was palpable in his voice. Mercedes smiled shakily and nodded.

Watching the scene, Byleth felt something stirring inside her. Deep, dark, potent. A pull in the pit of her stomach. So startled was Byleth, ever so composed Byleth, that her arms outreached instinctively jerked backward. She blinked, confused momentarily. What was that?

_Are you alright, child?_ Sothis sounded worried.

In her mind’s eyes, Byleth nodded. Was she perhaps sick again? She had fainted before. Byleth shook off her thoughts, hurrying over to help Mercedes and to calm everyone down.

In the evening after she retreated back to her room, Byleth turned the feeling over and over in her head. It was an entirely new emotion. She had certainly felt myriads of emotions over the past few moons in the academy compared to her mercenary days. Still, this emotion felt different. Unpleasant, she decided. Sothis was quiet.

_Do you know what this feeling is?_ Byleth asked as she stared at the ceiling, tracing unidentifiable swirls of patterns in the wood.

_It is only human to feel that way. One day, you will know the meaning of it._ Sothis’ reply was shrouded in ambiguity, though a hint of smugness did not escape Byleth’s observation. Byleth made a sound akin to something of frustration and covered her head underneath a pillow.

* * *

The second time she experienced this feeling was during the war, after the War at Gronder. Byleth was in her room just shy of midnight, listening to the steady drummings of rain on the windows. She could smell the sweet scene of fresh soil and rain even with the windows shut tight. It had been raining for days, as if the heaven grieved and mourned for the fallen in the war, for the sins and blood that hovered in the thick air never to be cleanse and forgiven. Byleth stared at her small leather journal, her paragraph she had been writing still uncompleted. She had taken to writing her thoughts and feelings down after Sothis fused with her and her dad’s passing. She took great satisfaction in penning down her thoughts and feelings daily and scrutinising them in slow agony on days where she was free of her duty to teach and to plan for war. When it came down to feelings, especially her own, Byleth was as curious as the cats in the monastery.

Now, however, her hands had stolen her attention. She stared at them motionlessly. Her fingers were slender and long but thick with calluses and scars and she was reminded of how Jeralt used to say it was a pity that she was a mercenary but not a noble. Yet, it was in these hands that they tell the tales of her time as a ruthless mercenary turned professor, of how much she had grown as an emotionally-constipated individual to someone who could think and feel for herself. It was also these hands that a certain blonde man said they were warm. Almost like a foolish girl Sothis had always called her, albeit affectionately, Byleth put her own right hand onto her cheek. It was cold, she thought, puzzled as to why he thought them warm. A thought crossed her mind - was he still awake, like her?

She had seen him absentmindedly walking around the monastery a few times late in the night. A heaviness surrounding him that she disliked and was immediately concerned about. Yet, she did not follow him, only silently observing from afar. She had her fair share of bouts of insomnia and nightmares and she knew, without asking, that he too experienced them.

Byleth frowned, resting the ball of her hand on her cheek as she so often did when was pondering over things. She felt... conflicted. It was an emotion she recently discovered. Why was he always on her mind? She used to think it was because he was her student and she cared about him as much as she did others. But, was this even normal? Nibbling on her lips, she tapped her finger on her desk. Suddenly, she felt restless, shifty and suffocated in this empty room. Getting up, she grabbed her grey coat and stepped out into the rainy night.

As Byleth sauntered around the monastery, the rain began to lighten, turning into a soft drizzle that created a soothing melody to her ears. Ignoring the small pellets of raindrops spitting on the surface of her skin, she made quick work to get to her dad’s grave.

Only to pause near the training ground. Bright light spilled from the ajar door. Byleth blinked. Careful not to disturb, she stepped near the door and peered in through the gap.

Dimitri was inside, sparring with someone else but she was not sure who. Her view was severely narrowed due to the small gap from the door. She startled, realising how she seemed to feel...happy. If she had a beating heart, she was sure it would be galloping in her chest now. She pursed her lips, mystified. A second later, just as she was about to leave, the silvery chuckle of a feminine voice made her freeze in place. That feeling of happiness halted to a stop as abruptly as it had come.

“Your Highness, this is the fourth lance you had broken,” the voice laughed in amusement, followed by Dimitri’s sheepish chuckle. Byleth recognised the other occupant as Ingrid. The mint-haired professor looked down, suddenly feeling an overwhelming feeling to escape and return back to her room. A familiar ache swept into her chest, rendering her frozen for close to a minute. She sensed that she felt this way before and was nonplussed to discover this feeling resurfacing again after so long. The emotion was strong, stronger than the first time and gripped her like a vice. It had an uncomfortable edge to it and she willed it to go away.

Stumbling, she broke away from the door and hurried back to her room. She would visit her father the next day. For now, she wanted to get rid of this feeling as fast as possible.

Except, the feeling grew stronger as each day passed by. Byleth would feel it when she was in the war council room. She would experience it in the dining area. She even felt it during her own private time, when her thoughts ran through the day’s events.

Exasperated and infuriated, Byleth decided to head to the infirmary to see Manuela one afternoon, before the departure to Enbarr.

“What have you here, lovely?” the older woman smiled as she glanced up from her notes.

“I am sick,” Byleth replied.

Manuela’s pleasant demeanor changed rapidly to a worried-stricken one. “You are sick? Oh dear, here. Let me check on you.” With a wave of her hand, Manuela casted a quick faith spell over Byleth. A few moments later, Manuela frowned. “There seemed to be nothing wrong.”

“That can’t be,” Byleth insisted. “I was feeling really unwell these few moons.”

“These few moons?” Manuela sounded taken aback. “You should have come to me earlier!” Her voice bordered reproval.

Byleth nodded. “Sorry. I thought it would go away on its own.”

Manuela scrutinised her for a quick few seconds. “It can’t be-” her frown deepened and a smirk was quick to appear as it was to disappear. “Did you have any...nightly activities for the last few moons?”

Byleth thought about it. She did sparring late at night with some of her students. Mainly Felix, Dimitri and Ingrid. Oh, Seteth too. Occasionally. When he was not fretting over his sister.

“Yes,” Byleth nodded.

“Ye-yes?” Manuela clearly was not expecting the answer as she seemed shocked. “Seiros, even the younger ones are getting it.”

“Getting what?” Byleth asked, confused.

“Nothing,” Manuela huffed. “Now, I casted a spell to check for symptoms of fever, flu and cough earlier but not anything else. I should have known to ask you this question first,” the older lady shook her head. As she busied herself preparing for the spell, she urged Byleth to lie down on the bed. “So, who was the lucky man?”

“Who?”

“The one you did your...nightly activities with.”

“Oh, Felix,” Byleth quickly responded. She was about to close her eyes when she thought the air froze.

“Oh, my,” Manuela seemed surprised. “Wasn’t expecting him to get it on.”

Byleth recalled Felix’s sword skills and the intense training sessions they have. “He certainly makes it intense,” she chuckled. As an afterthought, Byleth casually threw in, “but actually, Dimitri too.” Once again, the hand reaching for her froze.

“Dimitri?”

“Yes. He was really good at what he was doing.”

“So...Felix and Dimitri? That would make the job harder to identify whose…”

“Hmm?” Byleth hummed, feeling slightly drowsy from just laying there. “Seteth occasionally joined in too.”

All of a sudden, she could feel the hand reaching for her drew back.

“S-s-seteth?” Manuela sounded...Byleth thought for a long and hard moment. Appalled. Appalled would be the right feeling.

Byleth opened her eyes, peering into Manuela’s own wide brown eyes. Scattered within them seemed to hold...a feeling of aghastness. “Wait, Byleth. Who else is involved?”

“Ingrid,” Byleth shrugged. “We occasionally train together, even though Felix hated it…” she trailed off when she saw Manuela breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, darling. How I misunderstood. Sit up, please,” Manuela shook her head, sighing again as she helped Byleth ease up from her lying position.

“Misunderstood…? Byleth tilted her head questioningly. “I was really feeling unwell.”

“Not that. Can you tell me your symptoms, please?” Manuela said. After a beat, she quickly added, “in details.”

Byleth was eager and described in great details all her feelings and thoughts in each scenarios and her perplexity only grew as she saw Manuela laugh at the end of her recount.

“How it is good to be young,” Manuela sighed wistfully.

“I don’t see how it relates to that,” Byleth shrugged. “It felt horrible. Am I sick?”

“Oh no. You are not sick. It is only human to feel this way,” Manuela responded, her voice softening into something kin to a gentle caress.

“Someone once told me that,” Byleth mumbled. Manuela smiled affectionately, running a hand through Byleth’s silky mint green locks.

“Darling,” Manuela stared straight into Byleth’s doe-like eyes. “This feeling,” the older woman puts her hand onto Byleth’s chest, ignoring the way it did not beat. “Is jealousy.”

* * *

After Byleth wedded Dimitri, she thought she would never feel this way anymore. Everyday was a rainbow of feelings - of euphoria and happiness when she was with Dimitri, of tiredness and loneliness when she was away from him and doing her work as archbishop. But never jealousy.

Yet, in the third year they married, when Fódlan was starting to return to its former glory before the war had tainted it, she experienced it again.

Dimitri, the king of Faerghus, had held a yuletide ball in the capital city, Fhirdiad. Nobles and commoners alike, arriving from all over Fódlan seemed to have gathered, judging by the crowd. Byleth spotted some of her former students and mingled with them, accepting their compliments of her white silvery dress Mercedes and Annette had forced her into.

It was near midnight when Byleth, exhausted but content, dragged her feet to the corner of the ball room. Her eyes roamed the crowd, seeking the only one she desired. She had not seen him since the ball started and while she expected it for they had their own duties to fulfil, she missed him greatly.

Despite the throng of crowd, it was not hard to find her beloved. He was tall, towering over the rest and that cape of his was certainly eye-catching. The cape that was now being clutched by a woman he was speaking to. Byleth startled at how close the woman was to her beloved. The woman was practically draping herself over him. Dimitri was smiling, though, oblivious to the fact that he was becoming a prey. Byleth thought for a quick minute. She trusted the blonde man with all her heart and it was not like her to be jealous after she had married him-

The woman’s hand was sneaking toward his chest and going below-

Byleth crossed the ballroom in a flash.

Dimitri turned to smile affectionately at her as Byleth introduced herself. The woman smiled back halfheartedly. “I am afraid my husband is needed. I am just here to retrieve him,” Byleth smiled pleasantly and before the woman and Dimitri could react, Byleth had half-dragged the man across the ball to the balcony.

Dimitri followed willingly, chuckling in amusement as they reached the balcony overlooking Fhirdiad. “You know, you are pretty cute when you are jealous,” Dimitri teased, his voice playful and light.

Byleth turned and stared at him. Through the golden light spilling from the ballroom, his blonde hair appeared even more golden and his handsome features even more accentuated. “Well, I can’t help it if my husband is so handsome,” she shrugged, watching in amusement as Dimitri flushed so red, his blue eyes became strikingly glaring in contrast. “You are not the only one insecured,” Byleth said in a softer voice. “It took me months to figure this feeling back during the academy days and during the war period.” She glanced up at him, putting a hand onto his cheek. “Someone once told me I will know the meaning of this feeling some day. At that time, I didn’t believe it. But, now, I am glad I did. It is definitely not pleasant; it feels petty and silly and untrustful. But I can’t help it sometimes because I am insecure too. I guess I love you too much.”

Dimitri returned the smile - a smile so loving that Byleth felt herself melt. “I feel that way too sometimes when you are surrounded by the nobles who kept flocking around you. I am ashamed of it and find it hard to talk about. So, thank you for sharing with me your feelings.”

Byleth felt the trickle of happiness leaking into her smile as she reached for Dimitri and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. “From now on, I want to share more of my feelings with you.”

“Please do, my beloved. Actually, you can start with it tonight on the bed,” an extremely rare sly smile, marred only by the furious blush on his cheeks, slipped into Dimitri’s features. Byleth laughed and leaned in closer to the love of her life.

“I shall.”


End file.
